


Stay Hidden

by yazzledazzle



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Captain America - All Media Types, Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Winter Soldier (Comics), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Adoption, F/M, Memory Loss, Other, Secret Relationship, Timeline What Timeline, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 21:15:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17393846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yazzledazzle/pseuds/yazzledazzle
Summary: WinterWidow secret baby fic? Sure why not.I have no idea what I'm doing, I just liked the idea of the character I made up.Ft. Red Room escape times, a baby on a doorstep, young defector Nat, kiddo all grown up, and wherever else my weird brain, procrastination and generally poor use of time takes us. It may be nowhere, I'm posting as I write, so don't get too attached.I'm new to the writing side too, so sorrynotsorry.





	1. Chapter 1

It was Yasha who first realized their trysts had created something. 

He didn't know quite how he recognised the signs of pregnancy - had he been a father, once? - but he knew soon enough that that's what it was, when their wordless conversations and hushed greetings began to feature a tired, sore, sometimes queasy Natalia. 

For months they'd explored each other's bodies whenever they were able to find privacy on a mission, sometimes even at night in the cold, hard reality of the facility that held them prisoner, when they were particularly in need of the other's touch.

Pregnancy and children were an even stranger concept to his incredible Widow, and when he told her his suspicions he watched half a dozen reactions flash across her face: skepticism, fear, longing, joy, terror, grief. 

The flicker of joy, of possession (that baby was his, something good he had made) that he felt, died as soon as he watched her face.

His beautiful Widow, so strong and self-sufficient, that he felt like he'd known forever. It made him ache deep inside with the knowledge that something he'd done, had contributed to, left her so shaken. 

They'd both assumed the Red Room had taken precautions already, to sterilize operatives - but why hadn't they been more careful, why had Yasha been so selfish as to let himself want. 

Her face hardened once again, and he reined in his whirling thoughts. 

“We cannot let them take them too.” 

The first thing she said, and it reminded him this wasn't about him - and now wasn't about her either. They'd never discussed their desolate, tortured existence - it was their reality they held each other tight to ward away - but they were both realists. They couldn't run without being caught eventually. They couldn't hide. They couldn't fight back without excruciating punishments. They couldn't even take their own lives - they weren't theirs to take. This baby, if the Room knew about it, would have the same life, and he and Natalia would be punished and separated for their indiscretions. 

He was ashamed that still, with her thinking of the child, he was thinking about how much separation from her would hurt. 

But she was right. The child had to be protected first.

“You have to leave.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not long or exciting but backstory is necessary before I can get to where I actually want to be.
> 
> The Winter Soldier needs a hug.

Ch. 2

 

“You need to leave.” 

Brilliant green eyes met his, as he forced out the words. 

“You’ll come with me?” 

He paused. 

“They'll suspect, if we do,” she continued. 

Yasha nodded, glad she understood. 

“You go, when you have a chance. I'll follow when I can.” They knew he meant if. 

“They'll look for us. Either of us.” 

“We can stay ahead. Until after.” 

Running pregnant would be difficult - with a newborn, impossible. 

“I could… see someone, straight away, if I leave. Before they could catch me.” 

He nodded, throat dry. She shrugged. 

A thud sounded from elsewhere in the training room and another trainer yelled. Blinking, Yasha and Natalia turned from one another and returned their attention to others in the room. 

And that was that. 

.. 

Even dulled as his sense of time was, it felt like forever until Natalia had a chance to leave. 

Each day his gut twisted and chest pounded. Each day was a risk a handler would notice her symptoms. Each day was a risk a hit in training would hurt the child (“it might be for the best” - “don't say that, Natashenka”) or injure Natalia and leave her confined to her rooms. 

They used their moments of privacy to communicate ideas and plans, and share rumours they'd heard of upcoming missions. Both knew the simplest would be for Natalia to be on a mission without him, and get away - if she got away with him there, they would suspect something, or if nothing else punish him perhaps with re-assignment to another facility, or re-calibration, or any other euphemistic way of saying tearing him away from any possibility of, any reminder of his Widow. 

A week later they found themselves in St. Petersburg, together, the snow on red turrets visible from their hotel window. 

It was a joint mission. Silently they argued in the transport on the way - she wouldn't leave yet, he would be punished - she should go, who knew when her symptoms would give them away and have them both hurt. 

She won, he couldn't bring himself to stop being selfish. His fiery Widow, how could he risk forgetting her? 

.. 

It still came too soon, her opportunity to run, on a mission in Vienna. She took it, of course, and made it - but for days Yasha had no idea if she had. Eventually he heard handlers speaking - of who would be sent to retrieve her - but the trail had already gone cold and the masters thought they could wait her out, that she wouldn't cope alone for long. Stupid power-wielders, never recognising true power. 

His next three, four, five missions he had to force himself to stay still. To not draw attention by looking for information, to not run yet, to not let on that he felt anything. 

He missed her. He wondered if she missed him. They'd talked about how he would join her after a couple more months - together they'd get to the end, the end with the… 

He couldn't let himself think about the child. There was no happily ever after here, not for him. 

He spent his energy between tasks listening for whispers of enemies of their masters. For possibilities for hiding, for help. He spent it on backup plans and convincing himself of kinder choices if it came to the worst… he didn't spend it on thinking of Natalia in his arms. That was on his mind without him trying. 

He didn't know how he'd live after this. Their realistic best options still had no happy ending to their love (he knew what that was) story. 

But now with her gone, with each day that passed he felt himself slipping further from his mind - he had to cling on to stay in control, he knew he couldn't let himself go under. For once for once he had to control his own mind alone inside it. 

He was terrified every time he slipped off to a wretched sleep, that he'd wake up years later, far too late. 

So he spent his nights focusing on the thought of her, his (but always her own) fiery Widow, and the child they might (maybe if everything somehow didn't go to shit might) could have. 

It hurt. But it kept Yasha going, so he kept falling asleep picturing their maybe, if he let himself hope (he remembered how?), somehow child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this enough backstory yet


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short again, sorry.

Yasha huddles into the shadows, heart pounding in his ears. 

He's in Berlin, the West. Three days ago he ran from his mission in Warsaw. Two days ago he missed extraction. 

He pulled every tracker from his arm, his thigh, paid a man selling handmade trinkets at markets to remove one from his back. The thigh was worse than his back, watching as he dug through his flesh. Then he took a car from a used sales yard and drove non-stop, pausing once only to cut his hair in a forested area. 

He hasn't seen any sign of handlers, of Red Room agents on the lookout. But his body has been shuddering, his vision blurring, his mind aching. He feels like he has run before, but he can’t quite remember… he should be used to not remembering, but it still scares him more than knowing he must have been caught. 

His vision fades into flashes of white, and of red seeping into the white. He digs his fingers into the wound on his thigh, but that just makes him black out faster. 

\--

“Yasha? Are you okay?”

His vision is swimming, a sea of red again, but he pulls himself up. “Natalia? Am I dreaming?”

 

“No, my love, you made it.”

He blinks up at her. His eyes roam her face - her smiling face, her shining green eyes. They travel down her body, and take in her large belly, looking almost alien on her small frame. He reaches out a hand and stops himself. 

“You can touch, Yasha…”

He frowns up at her. “I don’t remember how I got here, Natalia.”

\--

They leave that night, from Natalia’s little Parisian apartment. She tries to reassure him that it’s just part of the plan, but his mind break has them both worried - if he can’t remember getting here, how can they know he wasn’t followed, and didn’t say anything to any operatives?

They travel to Amsterdam and find a boarding studio upstairs from an older man who values his privacy and will not bother them, or talk to strangers. They assure him that they are quiet tenants.

Yasha holds Natalia until she falls asleep but lies awake each night for hours terrified. 

They do not stay long in Amsterdam. A week, and they travel to Rotterdam, where they slip onto a cargo ship. Natalia is 7 months pregnant now, by their best guess, and they will spend a few weeks at sea - it’s sure to be tough, and Yasha sneaks on board as many comforts as he can in the hours before they depart.

They hope the baby does not come early.

**Author's Note:**

> How exactly does one run and hide a pregnancy from evil organisations who won't let you go? I probably won't answer that question, other than to say Nat's a bamf so she can do it.
> 
> Future chapters will hopefully be longer, I just needed to start or risk never doing so.


End file.
